Candy's Idol
by Steveothepirate
Summary: After an especially devastating loss at the hands of Rowdy Reiko and her Cobra Gang, everyone's favorite cheerleader, Becky, receives a visit from an oddly familiar guiding spirit...
1. Thanks, Ms Spencer

_**Candy's Idol**_

"_And your winner, Rowdy Reiko!!!"_

As she stepped into her locker room, the ring announcer's words that had thundered through the arena were now thundering through her head.

Not even bothering to change into her pajamas, Becky simply slid off her elbow pads, knee pads, and white boots before plopping into her bed, taking a moment to look at the surroundings of her locker room before she jerked the covers over her head and rolled onto her side, hoping to fall asleep rather quickly.

When Becky tried to let her mind drift off into the nothingness of sleep, however, the image of her victorious opponent Rowdy Reiko flipping off the turnbuckle to crash down upon her remained cemented in her head, keeping her blood flowing and her senses alert, too alert to let her gently slip out of consciousness.

The Rumble Bunny grunted angrily and turned onto her opposite side as if to swat the thought out of her head. She let herself lay there for a minute or two just staring blankly at the inside of the cover draped over herself as she wondered just how she could manage to get to sleep.

An idea soon came to the cheerleader. Thinking back to an old trick she heard of as a child, Becky took a shot at counting sheep, conjuring up an image of the fluffy little farm dwellers hopping over a quaint little fence of wood atop a green hill in her head, counting each little bundle of fluff as they hopped over the fence,

"1, 2, 3..."

She stopped, suddenly finding that another voice made its way into her psyche,

"1, 2, 3!"

It was the voice of the referee.

Again, Rebecca snapped onto her opposite side, once more slapping the thought out of mind.

Becky soon realized that she would be unable to shake off those sleep-intrusive thoughts on her own, and so would need something else to take her mind off of them, distract her, and thus allow her to ease off into dreamland.

She first considered watching TV. Unfortunately, the cheerleader soon remembered that she no longer had a television in her room.

She and her teacher both agreed that it was far too distracting to have in the locker room when she was trying to study, and so it was removed a few weeks ago. Ergo, Rebecca would have to think of something else.

First, her eyes glided across the walls of the room, starting with the back wall, boasting the half-dead plant in its gaudy, soil-filled pot across from her bed in the corner, then the wooden-doored closet, which consumed most all of the rest of the space that wall had to offer. The little bit of space provided by the corner on the opposite side of the closet was empty, long without a nackered, stickered-up, un-tuned, and yet treasured pawn shop-priced Les Paul to fill it.

She didn't miss it very much. She didn't have time to practice it anyway, as gymnastics and history books ate-up whatever spare time Becky managed to sneak into her scheduling. It made sense, though. She didn't have time to piddle away with that loud, bombastic rock and roll stuff, as her teacher had explained. Thanks, Ms. Spencer.

Turning to her right, Becky eyed the wall across from her bed. The wall that was once lovingly adorned in posters and pictures of Sid Vicious, Johnny Ramone, Frankie Venom, and various others now played host to a few school banners, along with her framed awards and scholarships: "Honor Roll- 5th six weeks", "Most Valuable Player - Toronto Independent High School Cheer Squad", "Perfect Attendance 08", and so on and so on. The only thing that was still the same about it was the tall mirror near its right corner.

Again, another agreement between herself and her teacher. Who needs to surround themselves with dead rockstars when you could surround yourself with truly honorable material? Why yes, that was the ticket. Thanks, Ms. Spencer.

Her eyes continued their rotation. Skipping past the door of the room, Becky spotted her mess of books laying atop her small bedside desk. They were all school books, dealing with chemistry, world history, among other things. While one of those would certainly bore her to sleep, the Rumble Bunny was rather burnt out on the "school" stuff, and so let them be.

She then looked in the desk's sliding drawer, and found her mp3 player. She hadn't really listened to it very much as of late (Thanks, Ms. Spencer), but the cheerleader was desperate. After all, it was certainly better than reading about Canadian history. She grabbed it and popped her headphones into her ears, ready to let whatever song that started playing take her mind and slowly push her negative thoughts out,

"_Under the floor againOnce I was up and in the air but now I'm downGoodbye to all my friendsForget I ever was, the mole goes undergroundUnder the floor ag-"_

"Gah!" she groaned, yanking the earphones out and plopping the music player back into the drawer.

Forgoing that strategy altogether, Becky returned to square one by pulling the covers over her head yet again, once more trying to clear her thoughts on her own.

Just as before, this strategy had an adverse effect of what she had hoped for, as the more she tried to clear her head, the fuller it became, as if she was fighting against quicksand. Now, new thoughts were sprouting from the seeds of the ones already plaguing her.

Though losing matches had been quite commonplace with Becky as of late, she couldn't believe that she had let herself lose this match. No, not this match, not _the _match: the match that would have awarded her the Rose of Roses championship. How she had been awarded the opportunity was beyond her, what with her losing streak in full effect, not that it mattered now, she lost.

It wasn't so much the fact that she lost that was eating at Rebecca, but rather how she lost.


	2. The Match

The crowd was cheering, their camera's flashing, and the sheer sense of excitement flowed through Becky as she lay in the center of the ring on her hands and knees, raising her head a short ways to see her opponent, Rowdy Reiko, reeling in the corner after being hit with a huge dropkick from the Rumble Bunny.

"Becky! Becky! Becky!" the crowd chanted. "Becky! Becky!"

They felt an excitement in the air. Rebecca felt it to. It was an excitement that no one had felt in awhile. It was excitement born of a certain hope; a hope that everyone, fans and Roses alike, would be freed from the long-reigning tyranny of this paper champion, this false warrior kept in power by those around her, keeping the title from being all that it could be, reducing it to a piece of jewelry around Rowdy Reiko's waist, instead of the glorious thing that it should be.

With that excitement came energy, and with that hope came confidence. Becky almost leapt off of the mat and charged at Reiko, and would have had it not been for her fellow Cobras leaping onto the apron and tending to her like some group of seconds. Becky glared at each of them.

On Reiko's left, Diamond Diana, her hair a blonde 80s mane born of teasing and Pomade, her outfit that of a ballerina on crack, with its yellow zebra tights underneath a pair of glittering assless chaps, along with a bright purple singlet and white gloves. The only thing louder than her appearance was her voice, comprised of smiling, often incoherent babble, accented with a few loud screeching, train whistle-like screams and hoots as she leaped and karate-kicked around the ring.

"Don't worry, Queenie!" she rapidly patted her leader on the shoulder whilst pogoing on the apron. "Hey, one in the head is worth two in the pants, so get out there and dance, baby!"

On Reiko's right, Fran "Franzy" Marsciarelli, the tomboy greaser-throwback from Cuba. Her black hair was tied back in a ponytail, granting her golden shell earrings full visibility. Her attire conjured up memories of John Travolta and Frankie Valli, with tight blue jeans, a white shirt, and most important to her of all, a prized leather jacket. Her clothes and attitude were almost as retro as her wrestling style, made up of traditional holds and Steamboat-like aerial offense.

"Ay, don' worry about it, Chica!" she yelled whilst adjusting Reiko's bandana back into its place. "You get back in there and just…," she clapped her hands loudly on a shout of, "OH!", easing into a suave Elvis-style pose afterwards.

Finally, Helin Varen, who simply remained on the arena floor, only looking up at Reiko with concern. She didn't have to look upwards very far, however, as she was easily the tallest, and biggest woman on the entire roster. She wasn't big as in fat, just naturally large, like some kind of giant. Her blazing orange-red hair (dyed from its natural Nordic blonde) let her cold, blue-grey eyes stand out even more on her stoney, angry face. Her clothes were simple; a black t-shirt sporting a mjolnir logo, leather elbow pads and fingerless gloves, along with leather pants that just managed to be a little baggy hugging her massive legs. No one had to guess what her game was in the ring. Power, and lots of it, not to mention a surprising amount of speed and athleticism.

Becky (along with everyone else) hated all of them, but her thoughts turned back to the task at hand when she saw Reiko nudge Diana and Fran away as she began to approach her.

The two locked-up again, sending the crowd into a frenzy as they jockeyed for leverage over the other, Reiko's Cobra Gang cheering her on from the arena floor (at least two of them). Becky managed to slip Reiko into a side headlock, but found her efforts countered when Rowdy gripped an arm around her back and lifted the cheerleader up, going for a backdrop.

Becky had the move scouted, however, and slipped herself out of the Rose of Roses' clutch mid-arch, rolling back and landing on her feet behind the champ. Taking advantage of this, the Rumble Bunny quickly backed into the ropes behind her, whilst Reiko momentarily struggled to regain her footing, and then dashed back towards her opponent, flipping over Reiko and grabbing her head in a cutter-hold as she came down, causing Reiko to slam into the mat face-first, bouncing onto her back upon impact.

The crowd erupted for the move, and Becky could feel the momentum shifting with those two big hits alone. She hopped-up, pointing to the sky to signal for an aerial move, getting an even bigger pop from the crowd.

The Rumble Bunny stepped through the ropes and ascended the turnbuckle, feeling the crowd's adulation coursing through her, feeding that now seemingly ever-burning confidence. She looked down at the champion, laid out, prone on the mat, in her control. Rebecca smiled, dug in her heels, and prepared for a leap.

"Hey!" the referee cried, dashing towards her.

Becky had no idea why the official was doing so, but she soon found out when she felt a large hand shove against her left hip, sending her flying off the turnbuckle and slamming into the ref, their heads knocking skull-to-skull before they hit the mat.

Helin managed to crack a smile at her work when a loud "boooooo" from the audience droned through the arena. She stepped off the apron and joined her fellow bikers, who were jumping about and calling out encouragements to their beloved Queen Cobra.

"AWWWWOAW!" Diana screeched. "Come on, Reiko! Get back up!""Crack 'er in da mouth, Chica!" Fran threw a mock punch, grinning ear-to-ear.

Slowly, Reiko rose to her feet, still a bit groggy from her challenger's burst of offense. She checked her nose, making sure it wasn't broken or bleeding after taking the brunt of the impact from the challenger's flipping cutter. It wasn't, so she turned her attention to the challenger herself, seeing Becky struggling to pull herself up with the help of the ring ropes. Fran shouted words of pseudo encouragement from ringside.

Suddenly, Rowdy saw some kind of object fly into the ring, landing nearly in the center. Diana had tossed in her trusty Singapore cane. Reiko smirked, looked out at Diana, and gave her an approving nod.

Noticing that the referee was down, Reiko took a few steps forward and grabbed her weapon, taking a moment to admire it. She then turned to the left, seeing that her adversary had nearly gotten to her feet, although still seemed a bit jarred by the head-to-head collision, as she remained propped-up against the ropes.

Reiko let out a quick laugh, twirling her cane slowly, feeling as though she had regained control of things. She continued the taunting by pointing the cane forwards towards Becky, holding it like a shotgun before suddenly jerking it upwards, then blowing on the tip as if she had just fired a bullet. The crowd rewarded her miming antics with another droning "booooooo".

Ignoring them, Reiko got into a batter's stance, still mocking her adversary by tapping the cane on the mat as if on first, before dropping all the antics and making a b-line for Becky, ready to take her head off with the cane.

As Reiko swung, however, Becky suddenly came back to life, regaining enough composure to see the swing just in time to duck and roll under it, leaving Reiko to twirl and lean against the ropes.

Not allowing the unexpected resilience stun her for long, Reiko resumed her attack with a battlecry, again charging at Becky with the stick readied. The Rumble Bunny ducked the swing again, however, and landed an authoritative right hand to her opponent as the two spun to face each other.

Jarred by the punch, Rowdy stumbled back, nearly into the ropes, but still managed to maintain her grip on the weapon.

"Why won't you just die!?" the Cobra Queen cried as she yet again dashed at Becky.

Reiko raised the cane, going for an overhead swing this time, but before she could come down with the swing, Becky moved to the side and caught her square in the stomach with a well-placed knee-kick, causing Rowdy to grunt in pain, drop the weapon as she stumbled forward and ultimately fall to the mat.

As Becky turned in her enemy's direction, however, she was met with the sight of Fran rushing at her, and got caught with a stinging backchop from the greaser, followed by another one, sending her back another couple of steps until she fell against the ropes.

Fran raised her arms in a "what's up" sort of fashion, then shrugged her shoulders as she gave the cheerleader two thumbs-up with a coy smile.

"Ayyy!" she laughed, sending the crowd into a chorus of jeers.

Franzy exclamated the taunting with a hard slap. She then glanced behind her, checking on something before grabbing the Rumble Bunny by the arm and sending her rushing forwards with an Irish-Whip.

Suddenly, Diana slid under the ropes and popped-up just in time to meet Becky with an expertly done snap kick, hitting her right in the face and sending the cheerleader off her feet and rolling on the mat.

Diamond Diana then busted out a jumping split kick to show off, pumping her arms in the air triumphantly afterwards, causing the crowd to boo even more loudly than they had been previously.

With their opponent incapacitated for the moment, Fran and Diana joined Helin, whom had made her way into the ring, to check on Reiko. The three of them helped her onto her feet, dusting her off a bit, after which Diana hastily snatched-up her dropped kendo stick and handed it to her queen.

The four of them stared at Becky as she struggled to sit up. They all laughed at her efforts.

Smirking, with cane in hand, Reiko sauntered towards her opponent, and once she was close enough began to jab the stick at her like a cattle prod, nudging Becky into the corner and up against the turnbuckle. She then dropped the cane and threw a few fierce punches to the cheerleader's face, receiving boos from the crowd and quips of admiration from her own personal cheer squad of Diana and Franzy.

Figuring the flurry of shots had quelled the already unlikely chance that Becky would show any resistance, Rowdy gripped her by the hair and shoved her forwards, effectively placing the Rumble Bunny down on her hands and knees at Reiko's side. The Queen Cobra raised her left foot and booted Becky in the back of the head, pushing her facedown onto the mat completely, just to show who the queen was.

Leaving Becky there, Reiko stepped forward until she was inbetween her Cobras and their victim, her eyes darting intently back and forth between the two groups.

"Helin!" she called, pointing to Becky with the cane, letting her voice slip into a cold Baby Jane tone as she ordered, "Run her down."

The other three Cobras grinned wickedly at the command. Fran and Diana cleared-out of the way, allowing Helin to menacingly back into the corner adjacent to the one Becky was near. Helin watched the cheerleader once more struggle to get to a vertical base, glaring at her intent-fully with a devilish smile, crouching, waiting.

Rowdy Reiko's demeaning antics persisted, as she stood at Rebecca's side swaying her arms and the cane as if she were guiding a plane down the runway, gesturing towards Becky as she did so.

Becky was in a daze. The last few minutes had been nothing but a blur of painful blows to her head and face. She was still out of it, seeing the surroundings go through her eyes in a wave, which added to the dizziness that accompanied it all. Every sound in the arena, the crowd, the shouting commentators, the Cobras, all of them blended into a slo-mo sludge that flowed through her ears. Still, she had to get up, she had to keep fighting. That belt was calling her, pushing her, driving her on.

She was on one foot and a knee now, almost ready to just let herself fall back to the mat. After all, what was the use? She was outnumbered, and they were cheating! There would be no shame in losing. She was sure that's what most would tell her afterwards, including Ms. Spencer.

In spite of her thoughts to the contrary, Rebecca found herself rising onto her other foot, as if on auto-pilot, albeit in a very unsteady fashion. She raised her head up, and all thoughts vanished when she saw Helin coming at her like a locomotive barreling down on a stalled car, except this locomotive boasted the terrifying face of a Nordic descendant with all the fury and berserker rage of her ancestors, screaming out a beastly cry of war.

Rebecca stood there like a deer in the headlights, to dazed to move. She almost closed her eyes, ready to just accept the bullet that was about to hit her.

The bullet never made contact, as someone abruptly shot in front of Helin's path just as she lunged for the spear, causing her to slam into them with her left shoulder. The blonde woman folded like an accordion as she and Helin went off their feet, their bodies rotating to the right, until the victim separated from Helin's arm and her body flipped back a moment before she hit the mat, whereas Helin landed a second after inbetween Becky and her accidental recipient.

Becky simply fell back against the turnbuckle as the crowd went insane, catching a glimpse of the purple-haired woman standing to her right.

Helin felt confused as she rose to her knees, piecing together the split-second details in her head.

There was a shriek from Diana, but not her usual jovial yelp, rather one that sounded as if out of shock or terror.

She had hit someone, but it wasn't Becky. No, the collision was much to early to have been the cheerleader. She didn't see her step forward so who did she….

Helin flipped the orange hair out of her eyes, and nearly froze when she saw the Cobras' logo on the back of Reiko's jacket as she laid motionless before her.

"Yo, Helin!?" Franzy cried from ringside, her voice nearly cracking. "What the fuck, lady!?"

The Viking suddenly felt a sharp tinge of pain slam into the back of her head. She was only nudged by the shot, seeing Noble Rose, Reiko's sister, dash past her with a steel chair.

Fran rolled into the ring and popped up to dash at Fujiko, only to be put down by a hard chair shot right to her forehead.

Once she had disposed of the greaser, Noble turned to see Diamond Diana rush under the ropes from the opposite side of the ring, swiping up Reiko's discarded Singapore cane as she ran at the Thorn of Justice.

Fujiko charged forth to meet her, swinging her chair vertically, only to have Diana duck it, slide around her, and get in a quick shot to her left heel with the cane. This left Noble hopping on a single foot momentarily, which Diana attempted to capitalize on with another single-handed swing of the cane, this time trying to bring it down on her opponent's head.

Fujiko quickly raised her chair, and blocked the swing, leading to a short stand-off between the two.

Attempting to intimidate her foe, Diana began rapidly spinning the cane almost like a baton, passing it off between hands, behind her back, and under an arm, all in a nice fluid motion, her martial arts prowess on fine display.

Not to taken with the show in the first place, Fujiko swung the chair low, hitting the side of the glam rocker's left knee, causing her to drop the cane and grasp her leg, hopping on the other in pain. Noble Rose then jabbed the chair into Diana's ribs, causing her to hack in pain, leaning forward to clutch at her abdomen. Noble Rose quickly hopped to her side and raised the chair up, bringing it down upon Diana's back, dropping the Cobra to the mat with a cry of pain.

Fujiko allotted herself a moment to breath out. Another Cobra down. She didn't have long to rest, however.

"KILLLL!!" an enraged voice cried from her right.

Instinctively, Noble Rose wildly swung her chair with an upward arch in the direction of the voice, hitting something.

She wasn't surprised to see Helin Varen looking down at her when she lowered the weapon. The shot had stopped the Cobras' wrecking ball in her tracks, but hadn't really fazed her. She just stood there, snarling.

"COME ON!" she roared, pumping her fists.

Fujiko obliged, swinging the chair up from the right this time, connecting with much the same thunderous clap against Helin's skull.

Helin's head jerked back on contact, but she was still balanced, her face returning to the same snarling glare that had graced it previously. She breathed in heavily.

"GAAHHH!" another defiant warcry, her eyes abulge with rebellious fire.

Noble Rose swung again, hoping to extinguish it. Another heavy hit.

"RRAAGGAH!" Helin immediately threw a few piston-like left fists to the side of her forehead, still roaring like a crazed barbarian as she leaned in towards Fujiko, daring her again.

The Thorn of Justice sent the chair rocketing into Helin's skull again, this time not pausing for a reaction from the Cobra, and instead immediately following up the leftward swing with another from the right.

Though the crowd gasped at the ferocity of each swing, outside of a few grunts of pain, Helin was still resilient, even giving Fujiko her demonic grin. Finally, Fujiko gained some ground when she changed up her tactics and jabbed the chair into Helin's abdomen, getting a more pronounced groan of pain from Varen.

Fujiko dug in her heels, and thrust the chair into the same area again, getting a "GOH" from the Viking as she was forced down onto one knee by the blow.

The crowd cheered in approval. Noble Rose was slowly but surely chopping the tree down, and she knew it. She immediately raised the chair above her head, bringing it crashing down ontop of Helin's with another metallic crunch. The blow seemed to send a jolt through her opponent's body, as her eyes glazed-over and arms wobbled.

Fujiko was determined, relentless. She reverted to vertical swings, slamming the chair into the side of the berserker's head, causing her body to jerk to the left. Fujiko swung again, swooping the chair in from the left, throwing Helin's head back to the right, though she still managed to fight through the pain and give the Thorn of Justice an impassioned glare.

Ready to end things, Fujiko dug in her heels and swung the chair from the right, slapping the look off of Helin's face. She didn't look to see if it returned when she swung it from the same direction a second time, causing Varen to lean down on her left knee, just barely maintaining her posture.

Fujiko swung once more. Helin's body went limp, dropping slowly, gently to the mat, as if struggling against Noble Roses' efforts even in unconsciousness.

The audience went crazy. Camera flashes filled the arena, a unanimous roar of approval sucked the air out of the arena, many of them leapt from their seats, swept up in the moment.

Exhausted, Noble Rose nearly collapsed to the mat, but managed to stay on her feet via using the now damaged chair like a crutch, holding herself up.

Yet again, she wasn't awarded with much down time. She instinctively looked behind herself, her eyes greeted by the sight of the final Cobra, the Queen Cobra, standing in the corner, her Singapore cane held firmly at her side as she stared a whole through Fujiko.

The crowd was whipped into a frenzy once again when the two locked eyes. They didn't have to wait long before one of them went on the attack.

Fujiko watched as her sister, or what was left of her, savagely rushed up to her, holding the cane behind her head like a bat, her eyes deadlocked with her sister's.

Noble Rose prepared herself, she gripped her weapon tightly, and swung from the side once Reiko was close. She felt the chair hit her in the ribs, but the force behind Reiko's swing of the cane was still enough to powerfully connect with the side of Fujiko's head.

Becky watched as the two sisters collapsed, dropping their implements of weaponry as they both fell back and hit the mat almost simultaneously. The chair plopped inbetween their feet, whereas the cane rolled towards the center of the ring at Reiko's left.

Seeing this, the Queen Cobra sluggishly managed to roll herself onto her stomach with an outstretched hand, reaching for the cane. In a daze, she followed her instincts and slowly crawled towards the weapon, dragging herself across the ring. Finally, she put a hand out and felt the cylindrical wood of her trusty weapon. She triumphantly grasped it, and pulled it in, rolling onto her back as she cradled it in her arms with a smile.

Reiko's moment of glory was short-lived, as a hand reached down and yanked the cane out of her grasp. Reiko looked above to see Becky standing there, the Singapore cane looming ominously in her right hand.

Becky had almost tossed the cane aside, but hesitated once Reiko rose to her knees, begging her not to do it. Once again, Becky looked at the champ, down at her feet, on her knees, in her control for the second time in the match. There were no Cobras to save her either. She was at the Rumble Bunny's mercy. Adding to Rebecca's encouragement, the crowd were cheering for her to "do it".

The cheerleader's mind was made-up. It was decided. She grasped the cane in her hands with an intentful grin og lee, of retribution. She raised the cane above her head, ready for the swing. This wasn't cheating; it was poetic justice! After all, they were cheating, weren't they? There would be no shame in fighting fire with fire, as most everyone would surely tell her afterwards.

Everyone except Ms. Spencer.

Ms. Spencer,… oh God! She hadn't thought about Ms. Spencer. What would she say about tactics such as this? She knew the answer all too well, but didn't want to hear it.

"Cheating to win isn't winning at all, Ms. Welsh."

Surely this was a special circumstance. After all, the referee was out of the picture, this was just a war. All's fair in love and war, is it not?

That split-second of hesitation was all Rowdy Reiko needed, as she dived in with a right hand to Becky's stomach, causing her to drop the cane and double over.

As the crowd shouted their disapproval, Reiko got onto her feet, and positioned Becky's head between her thighs. She then lifted Becky up, twisting her in the air before driving her to the mat headfirst for the Sunset Driver, getting a moan of displeasure from the audience.

The Queen Cobra instinctively leaned over Becky for a pin, but then realized the referee still wasn't up yet. She rolled back, finding herself next to the official who was leaning against the bottom rope. Reiko gave her a few gentle slaps to the face, hoping to jar her back to conciousness. It actually helped a bit, and Reiko carefully aided her in standing up.

Rowdy then switched her focus back Becky, whom she grabbed by the arms and pulled her until she was at an angle, lined-up with the nearest turnbuckle.

The crowd booed, realizing what the Rose of Roses was preparing for. She just smiled, and raised a proud fist into the air.

"COBRA GANG!" she proudly proclaimed.

"BOOOOO!!" they responded.

After the fun, Reiko got back to business, confidently, but sluggishly walking to the turnbuckle. She climbed up, taking a moment to eye Helin and Fujiko laying on the ground. Reiko then looked out into the crowd, eyeing the numerous "Cobras Suck" signs, quite proud of those, and any others of that nature.

Becky watched helplessly as Rowdy Reiko leaped into the air, curling into a ball quickly and gracefully before crashing down upon her knee first into her stomach.

After crushing Becky, and the crowd's hopes of a new champ, Reiko stood up, admired her effectively neutralized challenger, and placed a foot on her throat as the referee crawled over to count the pin.

"1, 2, 3!"

And like that, it was over.


	3. An Idol Mind

Welsh knew that the higher-ups had their eyes on the Queen Cobra for a long time, along with a slew of others whom they probably held in a higher regard than herself given the aforementioned losing streak of hers.

Who knew when she would get another title opportunity, or even an opportunity for that opportunity? The Rumble Bunny's losing streak had been holding strong for so long now that her name was becoming synonymous with getting pinned amongst the rest of the locker room.

Cursing her luck, the Rumble Bunny flipped her cover down, growing tired of it enveloping her head.

With a sigh, she decided to try the counting method again, but this time, she would count all the little nicks and ridges in the wall right in front of her eyes, hoping again that boredom would provide a good-enough mental shielding,

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 ,9..."

Suddenly, Becky realized that the wall's ridges had become a bit easier to spot, standing out more. The wall had become brighter, illuminated by a light that was apparently behind her, seeing as how her shadow was now visible. It was as if a light was being emitted from the center of the room.

Soon, something else alerted her senses; an odd, rapid, repetitious sound was coming from somewhere behind her as well. It was fairly loud, sounding much like a high-pitched keyboard or synthesizer,

"Dwoo, doo, doo, dwoo, doo, doo, dwoo, dwoo,"

Becky instinctively whipped around to view whatever the source was, finding herself shocked to see a swirling mass of star-like white lights floating in the middle of the room. Suddenly, the spacey mass erupted into a brilliant flash of white, which Becky had to instantly look away from in order to shield her eyes.

"Hello, Rebecca…"

When she turned back, the cheerleader was even more flabbergasted by what greeted her eyes then: There was a man standing before her.

His dark blue eyes were narrow, focused solely on her. His hair was bleached a platinum blond, almost white, and spiked-up in an eye-grabbing manner. He had his nose pointed up at her as his lips were parted in a sneer. All this alone gave the stranger an aura of justified yet arrogant confidence and seemingly unmatched virility.

Her eyes slowly moved from his face down to his body, which was of a decent build, although skinny. He wore a silver necklace around his neck, hanging down to his chest bone; There was a shimmering red-leather vest on his body, with random tatters of fabric lopping down from its edges; On his hands was a pair of fingerless leather biker gloves, one accompanied by a studded wristband; He had a studded belt, worn loosely and crooked on his waist, and on his legs was a pair of obscenely-tight leather pants tucked into black motorcycle boots on his feet.

The two locked eyes with one another in silence. Becky could see her gaping-mouthed expression of shock reflected like a mirror in the man's eyes, though she could do nothing to remedy it. Far greater forces within her, namely shock, left her paralyzed, allowing this flamboyant leather-clad stranger to scan her with his piercing eyes. She couldn't even move, much less speak.

The man's lips slowly came together and out of his sneer whilst he eased his head to a normal uncrooked position. His eyes widened to normalcy, yet he kept them locked with Rebecca's as he did so.

Suddenly, he raised his right arm up, pointing to Becky, causing her to jump with a start at the abrupt movement. He did nothing after that, only standing there, paused in that stance.

Finally, he lowered his arm, and spoke.

"I've come for you, Ms. Welsh," his voice was low, yet easy, only letting a touch of gravel naturally creep into it when necessary. It was serious, a bit intimidating in tonality, coated with a slight hint of a British accent.

Becky just sat there, still silent.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, letting a slight smile creep into his lips, though his vocal tone remained dark.

Rebecca still was unable to speak, only able to close her mouth with no answer.

"Come on, now," he shrugged his shoulders, allowing his sneery smile to widen as he added with a smirk, "You don't have to be shy."

With that show of a more earthly disposition, the man seemed like less of an ominous specter and more of a human. Still, Becky's uncertainty maintained its hold of her vocal and mental prowess when she made an attempt to respond.

"Uh..," it was an odd, squealy sound squeezed from her throat. She hadn't even moved her tongue to speak.

He had to laugh, shaking his head with a grin.

"Come on," he coaxed her teasingly, almost squeaking on the 'n' in a rather dorky way. He flung his arms out to his sides in a cartoonish manner with an intentionally comical roar of, "You've got to remember me!"

The Rumble Bunny looked at him, letting her eyes give away her persisting cluelessness.

The man sighed, though continued to look cheery.

"So, you _really_ don't remember me?" he ran a hand through his snowy-white hair.

Becky was still silent.

"You watched me all the time!" his arms went up again with another playful scream. "Come on, try harder, now!"

With a sigh, the Rumble Bunny timidly looked the stranger up-and-down, eyeing his bleached hair, eyeing his grinning face, eyeing his punk-rock clothing, thinking of how she might have 'watched him all the time'.

Now he was the one who stood there silently, waiting for her answer with his seemingly omnipresent confident smile.

Soon enough, Becky raised her head up, able to bring herself to look him in the eyes once again.

"Well?" he smiled, then gave her a sneer which he thought to surely erase any doubt of his identity with.

"um…," the cheerleader began feebly.

"Yes?" he beamed with hope.

"Um…," Rebecca started again, "You're…"

The man nodded, urging her utterance of an answer on.

"You're…," she started with promise, but soon trailed off.

"Yes," the punk nodded, grinning with anticipation.

"You're that guy from 'Buffy'?"

…

Her guest's eyes widened in shock before he sneered again. This wasn't his usual sneer, however; It was one of disgust. He looked as if some horrible smell had suddenly shot into his nostrils.

"'The guy from Buffy'!?" he groaned with a bit of a screech.

"Yeah," Becky nodded, her eyes retreating to her left as the confidence in her words dwindled. "'Slade', right?"

After a moment of staring at the cheerleader in disbelief, the guy who wasn't from Buffy let out a dejected sigh, letting his head sink, allowing the white sickles of his hair to point at her.

"No…," he groaned before apathetically raising his head again, sighing out, "I'm Billy Idol."

He was again met with a knowledge-less stare.

"Oh, come on!!" he exclaimed with a stomp of his foot, wildly letting his arms flail above his shaking head before snapping them down. His sarcastic playfulness was gone. "You're bloody joking, right!?"

"No," Rebecca answered gingerly, hoping to soften the blow by tacking on, "sorry…"

Idol let out a heavy breath of air, raising his gaze up as if looking to the heavens for temperment.

"Look," he shrugged his shoulders, "I'm here because I'm supposed to…"

Billy abruptly stopped, and just stood there with an annoyed grimace, his mouth slightly open as if he was searching for words to come out, a process physically represented by a twirling of his hand.

"You really don't remember me?" he asked. "I mean, really? You must have heard one of my songs, right?"

He paused as if to wait for an answer, but just as Becky was about to give one, Idol suddenly popped into an energetic shimmy of his shoulders, stepping rhythmically to the left and right as he belted out a line from a song of his,

"Hey little sister,

What have you done…"

He stopped, and looked to her askingly.

Her silence answered for her.

Maintaining his temper, Billy tensed up his shoulders before letting them drop down with a heavy breath of air.

"Okay," he groaned. "Surely you've at least heard _of _a song of mine?"

Becky had to take a moment to think, rubbing her chin whilst doing so.

"I… don't think so," she answered with an air of guilt about her tone before the punk's slowly forming frown caused her to add, "I mean, I don't think I could name one."

"'Rebel Yell'?" Idol gave it a shot.

"N-no," she shook her head.

"'Hot in the City'?"

"Nope."

"'Cradle of Love'?"

"Mm-mm."

"'Flesh for Fantasy'?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Okay,… 'Sweet 16'?"

"No."

"'Dancin' With Myself'?"

"N- Wait, isn't that a Generation X song?"

Their eyes simultaneously widened in shock at her sudden spurt of knowledge, the cheerleader just as surprised by it as the singer.

"Yes!" Idol exclaimed with a wide beaming smile, almost hopping.

Becky gasped, verbally representing the suddenly-sparked epiphany that struck her.

She once again looked at the now smiling rocker standing before her, finding him to be a much more familiar entity. She saw him singing in a club, howling into a microphone and pumping a gloved fist as his guitarist broke into a ballerina spin before coming down onto his strings once the rotation was done. She saw him singing on TV, dancing in a dark church alongside a group of leather-clad women, horror movie style ground-smoke covering their feet. She saw him some 30 years later, aged but undaunted, singing in some stadium, pumping his fist and howling as he had 30 years prior.

Then, she saw him standing in the middle of her locker room, looking at her, younger than that final image of him she had seen in her mind, as if he had jumped back 30 years to the prime of his life.

"Oh yeah," she just barely smiled at him, feeling much more confident. Confident enough to look at and speak to the rocker, but not enough to totally do-away with her visible tentativity.

Still, Idol had to give her a smile.

"'Billy Idol'," she said his name to herself, nodding with a fulfilled feeling. "Yeah, I remember you now."

Billy laughed, slapping his hands together.

"Great!" he happily remarked, following that up with a triumphant raise of his hand.

With his ego now intact, Idol clasped his hands behind his back before turning on a foot to his right in order to slowly take a few steps forward, letting his eyes wander about the surroundings of Becky's locker room. He lazily glanced at her little plant and her closet with a quaint "hm". As he turned himself around to walk back the other way, however, Idol was forced to stop and eye the numerous plaques and banners splattered about the wall across from Becky's bed.

He let a "hah" slip out as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow, causing the struggled smile to leave her face.

"Do you have enough of those things up there?" he smirked.

Before the cheerleader could grant a reply, Billy started walking again, but only for a short moment before he noticed the wall's mirror. He gave the reflective glass slab a look, and then approached it, rubbing his chin as he eyed it in contemplation.

"Yeah," he muttered to himself, nodding. "This'll do."

He then once again looked to Becky, who's wondering eyes told him she had a question. He stopped, waiting for it.

"So,… why are you here?" she finally asked.

Billy smiled.

"I almost forgot to tell you, didn't I?" he crossed his arms, nonchalantly stepping forward as he spoke. "I'm here to help you."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow.

"Help me?" she reiterated inquiriously.

"Yeah," Idol nodded, coming to a stop after only a slow step or two.

There was a silence as the rockstar's answer was much shorter than what Becky had expected, leaving her to sit there for a moment before asking, "how?"

"Oh, you know," he started, "give you some advice, set you on the right path, a swift kick in the ass. That sort of thing."

"Ok," Becky looked away for a second, turning back unsurely with, "What do I need help with?"

Billy quickly shook his head with a "feh", going on to ask the cheerleader with a pitying smile, "what _don't _you need help with?"

Becky's eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed in offense.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked.

"Here," Billy said, undaunted by the apprehensivness of her question. "Take a look at yourself in this thing". He had a thumb pointing back to the mirror behind him to accompany the gentle command.

Rebecca slid herself over a bit so that she was lined up with the mirror, enabling herself to look at her reflection looking back at her in the mirror.

"Get a bit closer," Idol lazily wafted a hand towards it.

Obliging, the cheerleader hopped off the mattress and approached the mirror, her mirrored self growing in size with each step they took towards one another. Soon, they were standing face-to-face, foot-to-foot. They locked eyes with one another. When Becky looked up, she looked up. When Becky looked at her legs, she looked at Becky's legs.

"Alright, Becky," Billy started, "what do you see?"

"Um…," Becky thought, blankly staring at herself staring at her, "me?"

"Well, yes," Idol loosely agreed, "but what about yourself?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, this time looking back at him.

"What is it of yours that you see?" he shrugged his shoulders.

"What things are there that make you you?"

Becky returned to the mirror, her mirrored image boasting a puzzled expression on her face, as did she. The two of them scanned each other, but only the unmirrored one was deep in contemplation whilst going about this.

"Ummm," Rebecca's eyes and a rubbing hand went to the top of her head, "there's my hair, my eyes," she went lower, "and there's my shirt," she added laughingly, "with my name on it," lower again, "and my skirt…"

She trailed off, out of things to notice. She figured her answer wouldn't suffice for Idol, but upon looking back, Becky found the singer nodding with a complacent look of neutrality.

"Alright," he said, "that's all well n' good…"

He started towards her, making sure to look her in the eyes as he finished his statement,

"… but is any of this really yours?"

Billy Idol's words had the affect he had hoped for. Becky looked at him in silence, confused, and a bit weary of his words to come.

"Take another look at the mirror," he instructed with the twirl a finger.

The cheerleader did so, turning around and again eyeing her reflected form, still unable to make much since of Billy's inquiry, though she made an effort, or at least that's what she told herself.

"Now tell me," Idol started again, a bit snotty about it, then pointed to Becky's head in the mirror, "is that really your hair?"

"Um," she thought, "I guess so…"

"Oh, really?" Idol crossed his arms with a sneery smile. "And I suppose that's your skirt, to?"

"Um,… yes," Becky looked at her skirt in irked fashion, a bit put off by the smile, and Idol's intonation. "Why wouldn-"

"You're sure it is?" Idol cocked an eyebrow, smirking at her. "It all looks a bit…," he paused to find the word, "_fake _to me."

"Well, I-" she stammered, "I don't th-"

"What about that top?" Bill cut-in again, "Or what about that name on it?"

"I, I mean don-," the Rumble Bunny gave up on that sentence to spin around and glare at Idol, demanding, "What do you mean 'fake'!?"

Idol almost laughed, as he had again gotten a rise out of Becky, but caught himself, and just smirked while the cheerleader angrily scowled at him.

"Look, Becky," he raised his hands up pleadingly, "I just…"

The punk rocker suddenly dropped that statement, and rubbed his chin as his eyes wandered off in contemplation.

"You know," he began, looking down at the cheerleader again, "I'm really getting tired of calling you 'Becky'…"

Becky's face went from anger to confusion.

"I mean," Idol paused to shrug his shoulders, "it's just a _fake_ name anyway."

"What!?" she blurted out, almost laughing as a smile of annoyance crept into her lips. "Now what you talking about!?"

"Well, it certainly isn't your real name," Billy crossed his arms.

"Are you nuts!?" she exclaimed, still with a bit of exasperated laughing. "How isn't it my real name?"

Billy gave her a Beavis-harking grin, his eyes narrowed in confidence.

"I think you know," he answered with a nod, letting his eyes linger on the cheerleader a moment afterwards to gauge her reaction.

Rebecca let out a "pff" of a laugh.

"Really?" she asked in jest, taking a moment to cross her arms and angle her body, "Okay, so the that name my parents probably wrote on my birth certificate, and that I write on all of my freakin' school papers, isn't really my name?" She rolled her eyes, adding, "riiight".

"Yep," Idol smiled, leaning in as he tacked on, "That's _riiiight_."

"Look, rockstar," Becky unknowingly stomped a foot, "Just what the hell are you getting at, anyway!? Do you have some stupid point to make, or whatever!?"

"Yeah," Idol calmly replied, struggling not to grin.

"Then hurry-up and make it!" Becky barked.

With that go-ahead, Billy cleared his throat and took a moment to piece his words together. Once ready to do so, he clasped his hands being his back and began to pace left and right, letting Becky's gaze follow him as he started to speak,

"Look at it this way: Just because someone gives you a name doesn't mean it has to be yours."

He turned around, walking to the right now.

"I mean, the name my parents wrote on my birth certificate was 'William Broad', and I even wrote that on all of my school papers, as well…"

He reversed directions again.

"… but that isn't my name, now is it?"

Becky raised an eyebrow, watching as he spun around and walked towards the door again.

"So what's your name then?" she asked.

He stopped walking, and looked back at her with a simple answer,

"Billy Idol."

Becky's eyes widened. She was startled by that statement, startled because it made sense to her, something had broken through.

Billy turned around and stepped until he was standing in front of her.

"Do you get what I'm saying?" he asked.

Becky sighed, then nodded.

"I think so," she said, still unnerved by the whole notion Billy was alluding to. Just admitting that it made sense to her made her feel exposed somehow, unsheltered, so she fought it. "But how can you just change something like your name?"

"By erasing it and writing a new one," Billy replied.

"No," Rebecca persisted, wanting to sate her point "I mean, how can you change your name when someone like your parents are the ones who decide you should have it?"

"Because they aren't you," Billy shrugged his shoulders matter-of-factly. "Just because someone says you should do something doesn't mean you have to agree with them, even if they are your parents!"

Becky had to walk past him and sit down on her bed, waiting to see where Idol would go with this.

"By all means, listen to authority now and then, but not simply because they're authority."

"Then why else would you listen to them?" she had to ask.

"Because you _want _to listen to them."

The more Idol spoke, the more his words crept into her psyche, becoming louder, more poignant.

"What if _they _want you to listen them, anyway?" the cheerleader asked, still hoping to stop this.

"Who cares!?" Billy exclaimed. "What's all this _they _stuff?"

He approached the bed and sat down, placing an arm around Becky.

"Listen," he instructed, "'They' don't matter, only 'you' matter…"

Idol looked into Rebecca's eyes, letting that statement linger. The tingles of fear within her seemed to dissipating, slowly being replaced by a sense of empowerment. He needed to drive the point home, then and there.

Billy got off of the bed and stood in the center of the room, looking down at Becky with a fire in his eyes, a belief in his words.

"All you've been doing lately is asking yourself, 'what'll they think?', 'What'll they say if I do this?' Right?"

Becky's silence gave her away.

"You're just trying to be what everyone else wants you to be," the rockstar continued. "What happened to what you want you to be?"

That was it, the fear was gone. The fear was replaced with a sense of excitement, a sense of excitement that she hadn't felt in awhile.

Billy then held his hands out to the side, clasping them together, and then pulling them apart. As he did so, a bright sphere of white light appeared, growing the more he spread his hands out, until it grew to the size of a modest TV set, granting the dark room a decent amount of illumination.

Becky eyed the glowing light in awe until Idol snapped his fingers and an image of Rowdy Reiko manifested itself within the orb. She was standing over Rebecca, hoisting the Rose of Roses belt high into the air.

The punk rocker leaned an arm atop the spherical screen and crossed his legs, smiling at the Rumble Bunny.

"So," he gestured towards the image, "what do you see here?"

Becky watched the screen as Diana leaped into view, standing over her downed form and busting out an odd, sexy-dance type routine.

"Me being humiliated," she narrowed her eyes.

"Well, yes," Idol had to agree, "but take a look at Rowdy there…"

The Rumble Bunny eyed Reiko as she continued to boastfully display her championship belt to the jeering audience.

"What about her?" Becky smirked. "She's just showin' off that stupid belt.""Exactly!" Idol pumped a fist. "Now you're getting it!"

Becky looked at him inquisitively.

"Um, no I'm not," she rolled her eyes.

"She's got the belt!" Billy yelled, still abuzz.

"So?" Becky wasn't quite as enthused.

"So, why does she have the belt?" he asked.

"I don't know," the cheerleader answered roughly. "Because she's a cheating bitch?"

"Um, close," Idol rubbed his chin, "but not exactly what I was looking for."

The Rumble Bunny crossed her arms.

"What, then?" she raised an eyebrow.

Billy snapped his fingers again, causing the orb's image to switch to a shot of Becky with a Singapore cane standing over a cowering Reiko.

Just like the previous scene, it was also from the match earlier. Becky remembered all too well what would happen next.

She watched as Reiko desperately threw a punch to her stomach, then followed it up with her twisting piledriver maneuver.

"Ooh-hoo!" Billy laughed, watching the screen. "She gotcha good there!"

`"Ermmm," the cheerleader's grumble was audible.

"Oh, sorry," Idol lowered his head, turning back to the screen.

At this point, the Queen Cobra was ascending the turnbuckle, about ready to put Becky away with her Fallen Angel.

"Is there a point here," Rebecca abruptly cut-in. "Or can we just turn this stupid thing off?"

"Wha'?" Billy looked away from the screen. "Oh, right. Sorry…"

With another snap of the punk rocker's fingers, the image on the screen rewound itself until it stopped on a still image of Becky balefully standing over Reiko with the cane.

"Tell me," Billy leaned on the orb-screen once more, looking at Rebecca, "if Reiko had been in your spot right here, would she have stopped to think about whether or not to swing that cane?"

Becky didn't answer, even though she already knew the answer.

"No," Billy filled it in for her. "Reiko doesn't give a damn what anyone else thinks. She does things the way she thinks they should be done…"

He let his words linger and approached the bed, placing a foot on the mattress,

"… and _that_, Ms. Welsh, is why she's got the belt!"

Feeling that his point was made, Idol turned around and crossed his arms with a confident smile, waiting for a response.

"But…," Rebecca began, "she's a total bitch."

Idol sighed.

"Yes," he turned to face her, "but that's besides the point. You can argue for her morals, but there's no arguing with success."

He snapped his fingers, causing the orb to display Reiko proudly showcasing the Rose of Roses title.

"I guess not," Becky sighed, lowering her head.

Billy then clapped his hands, causing the orb to break apart and dissipate into tiny specs of white light which soon faded into nothingness.

"Besides," Billy smiled, "I remember a certain redhead who used to have that belt, too."

Becky smirked.

"Yeah," she smiled, "she did."

"Yeah," the rockstar nodded, "you did."

With that, Billy stepped to the center of the room, raising his arms up.

"Well, Beck'," he said, "it looks like I've gotta get goin'."

A smattering of white lights began to form, swirling around his feet as his body began to levitate.

"Remember everything I told you, Rebecca," he instructed.

More lights came, slowly beginning to climb up his body, until he was widely engulfed by streams of white sparkles.

"Will I ever see you again?" Becky felt inclined to ask. "I mean, besides on TV and your concerts and stuff?"

The sparkles began to create a sound, an odd, mystical, watery, laser-like melody of "dwoo"s and "dweep"s.

"I dunno, maybe," he replied. "Oh, by the way, what's the name of that tall blonde girl with the twangy accent?"

"You mean Dixie?"

"Dixie! That's it!'

"Nice rack."

"Oh, hell yes!"

The sound grew louder, and the lights even brighter, forcing the cheerleader to partially shield her eyes.

"Farewell for now, Ms. Welsh," Idol called over the noise. "I'm off to rock the world! WWAAAAAOOOAAAHHH!!!"

With that parting rebel yell, Billy Idol disappeared in a brilliant flash, leaving Becky alone in her locker room, which now seemed much more dark, and much more quiet.

"RiIiIiIIiiInnngg! RIIIiiiIiiiIIIiinNNgggG!"

Rebecca jumped upon hearing the abrupt sound. Was he coming back? Where were the lights?

"RRiiiIIiIiNnnNnggg!"

She quickly felt very stupid, realizing that it was just her cellphone sitting on her desk. She clicked on the lamp to see what she was doing and grabbed the phone, not bothering to check the caller ID before flipping it open.

"Hello?" she held it to her ear.

"Ms. Welsh?"

It was Ms. Spencer. She sounded alarmed, and Becky had a good notion as to why.

"Hi, Ms. Spencer," she replied.

"Oh, Ms. Welsh! I saw your match earlier tonight, and… well, I- I'm so sorry I wasn't there!"

This was it. Decision time.

You and I must meet and discuss this soon. There are so many things that y-"

"Uh, Ms. Spencer? I can't talk right now. I've- I've got plans…"

There was a pause on the other line.

"Wh-you what?""Thanks, Ms. Spencer," Rebecca took in a deep breath, "but I've got plans, ok?"

"Ms. Welsh? Are you feeling alright? Oh, I do hope you aren't sick. I as-"

Ms. Welsh hung up, plopping the phone back onto the desk, setting it aside.

Her eyes happened to look to the mirror when she did so. She saw someone looking back at her, but it wasn't a reflection of her. Rather, it was a reflection of someone else.

Keen on investigating, Rebecca got up, and slowly approached the mirror, the stranger grew and grew in size as the two got closer. Soon, they were standing face-to-face, foot-to-foot. They locked eyes with one another. When Becky looked up, the stranger looked up. When Becky looked at her legs, the stranger looked at Becky's legs.

Though the person in the mirror was indeed a stranger, she could still make out small details of herself within her. Because of this, Rebecca could feel an excitement swell up inside her. It was an excitement born of a certain hope; a hope that she could be freed from the long-reigning tyranny of this paper identity, this false self kept in power by those around her who kept her from being all that she could be, reducing her to a prized possession on their shoulder, instead of the glorious thing that she should be.

Herself.


End file.
